The Shepherd
by Youshi Semenjyu
Summary: 100 years after the death of Nicholas Wolfwood, Vash vanishes into the desert to seek out himself. What he finds is an enigmatic stranger calling himself a shepherd who shows him the way... (mention of WV) Complete!
1. Lost In Two Deserts

The Shepherd 

**By DuoLordOfDeath**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun or any of its characters or other affilations. I'm just using them for my own entertainment. Whee!**

****

NOTE: I blame this fic entirely on my drunken and depressed Wolfwood muse. Of course, if it ends up being my best fic ever, then it figures, heh.

**~*Part One – Lost In Two Deserts*~**

                A legend in his own lifetime. 

That was what he was to the people of this miserable little planet…a legend. An untouchable outlaw who had evaded capture everywhere he went and destroyed entire cities without killing a soul. The mere mention of his name was enough to send the strongest men into fits of fear and cause avarice-ridden bounty hunters to salivate in anticipation. 

But that had been many years ago…and the name of Vash the Stampede had faded long into the depths of local myth after it was decided that he was most undoubtedly dead. So, for the past one hundred years since he and his brother Knives had reconciled their differences and once again parted ways, Vash had found himself living in relative peace. He'd shelved his gun long ago and had resigned himself to a life of tranquility, though he kept in contact with Millie and Meryl often through the years; his last few friends on this hostile world. Hate and prejudice had taken the woman who had been his beloved surrogate mother, and blood and violence had taken the life of the one man who'd ever truly understood him…the only two people he'd ever truly, deeply loved. However, when he received word of first Millie's death, and then Meryl's, his world had been plunged into silence, and for the first time in many years he found himself utterly alone. Both had lived long, full lives, building families and living in great happiness, but somewhere in Vash's embattled heart he knew that Millie and Meryl could not live forever…The deaths of Rem Saverem and Nicholas D. Wolfwood those many years ago had left scars more horrible than those visible on his body…and in the wake of the girls' perishing as well, he found old wounds reopened. He was recluse now, living on the outskirts of the city of New Oregon, and many stories floated around in the town about him; of the strange young man who seemed to have lived there for years, and yet was rarely seen…

He often sat in a chair on the narrow veranda, looking out towards the desert; towards the horizon, where beyond the rise lay the small town where his dearest friend had fallen, finding his solace in front of the altar of a church, surrounded in blood…Indeed, the feeling of loss that Vash had felt upon finding the priest's battered body and knowing that nothing could be done…He'd never completely healed from that wound. He felt a bit foolish about it now…jaded perhaps, against the softer emotions after all these years of nothing, but he'd loved Nicholas D. Wolfwood then…loved that infernal, cocky grin, the good-natured swagger he possessed…those dark, brooding eyes that seemed to penetrate through his own green gaze…

But that was all in the distant past…and now; the former outlaw was alone in this world, lost in this endless sea of sand…lost in the endless lonely desert of his own mind. No longer did his expressive eyes twinkle with silent laughter, nor did a warm, truly happy smile alight on his lips. It was as though all his happiness…everything that had made the gentle gunslinger who he was…had evaporated in the overbearing light of the binary suns. There truly was nothing left for him on this dry, bleak world…

But that ended today.

A gritty, warm wind blew lightly against his face as Vash turned his back to the small town he'd called home for so many years, his light shirt rustling lightly in the breeze. He bore no provisions for his journey, nor was he dressed for such a grueling trip, but he seemed to not care. His dulled green eyes peered out into the desert, and with a soft sigh, he took the first step into the wastelands. He didn't know where he would end up after this…nor did he care. 

It was time to become the endless wanderer once more…but this time, he was not searching for his brother and the closure that came with it.

He was searching for himself… 

  
~*~

He was lost. He'd been lost ever since he lost sight of New Oregon yesterday…

Not that he'd spared a glance behind him…

He'd not rested in the time that he'd been wandering…he had no reason to sleep. He saw things in his slumber that he did not want to relive, and so denied his body its respite. His mind had been filled with random, brooding thoughts for the past 48 hours…mostly memories of friends and enemies long dead…of questions unanswered…of promises unfulfilled and words never spoken.

For two days, Vash had been wandering aimlessly through the desert, putting miles and miles of rock and sand behind him. Nothing but the mournful howl of the wind filled his ears, and the sun beat down upon him horribly, shining on the drying sweat that dripped down the side of his face and caused his flaxen hair to wilt in the heat from its normal, characteristic style. His face was painted pink from exertion…or perhaps impending heatstroke…he'd lost most of his coherent thought by now. His feet ached beneath him, and yet he continued on, ignoring the insistent hunger pains that plagued his stomach and the parched, dry feeling on his tongue. He ignored the dizzy, ill feeling that kept rising up within him and the pounding headache right behind his eyes…it was becoming more and more frequent now.  And still, he pressed on, trudging in a slightly disoriented fashion against the sandstorm that whipped against him, casting sand relentlessly in his eyes and causing his already thirsty mouth to taste the gritty sand. 

His chest burned as he tried to breathe; his lungs felt constricted and tight, and he could feel bile rise in his throat as another wave of heavy nausea washed over him. He walked unsteadily over the next dune, but as he came to the summit, he paused and looked blearily up in the sky, which was made hazy by the inexorable onslaught of swirling sand, coughing slightly. His eyelids fluttered slightly as he gave a slight sigh, and with a grunt, he fell to his knees, wavering slightly. The sand shifted precariously beneath him as he breathed out heavily, and his whole body felt suddenly rather heavy…as though all the gravity in the world was pressing down upon him. He gave a faint whimper, his eyes half opened, and then, as his vision began to darken, he sighed and fell forward, his eyes closing against the heat's oppression.

All faded to black.

  
~*~

  
Author's Notes:

  
Oh my! Will someone find Vash before it's too late? And what of the title, "The Shepherd"?

  
All will be answered in the upcoming parts…this is only a three part one-shot fic…I blame it all on my drunken Wolfwood muse. I hope this doesn't totally suck, but as this fic is more about parts two and three, Part one is really only preliminary stuff to get Vash into the action. This is yet another Trigun fic that deals with Christianity in some form or manner…I like using it in my Trigun fics for some reason. But all will be clear…


	2. The Shepherd

**~*Part Two – The Shepherd*~**

                "Hey…hey, are you alright?"

                A concerned voice sounded through the vague blackness of Vash's consciousness, beckoning him, calling to him, and bidding him to awaken. It was faint and distant, as though in a dream, but as the outlaw slowly began to come around, the sensation of warm sand against his cheek and the breath of a warm breeze rustling against his shirt, tickling his back lightly. The sunlight was hot against the back of his head and neck, and as he slowly opened his eyes and went to raise his head, he groaned vaguely, feeling as though an entire herd of thomases had trampled over him. There was a bitter taste of bile on his tongue, and he grimaced a bit at the flavor as he dazedly went to look up.

                "Ah, there you are," came the voice again, a warm male tenor. "I was afraid you wouldn't come out of it there for a moment," it remarked with a faint chuckle. Vash frowned as his vision cleared, and found himself looking at a figure hidden in a black cloak kneeling beside him with a warm hand on his shoulder. His face was shrouded completely in the shadows of the hood, but it was evident by the tone of voice that the stranger was smiling a thankful little smile. "Here, you must be thirsty," he remarked, and held out a small canteen full of water. 

                Vash gasped as he saw the man offer his canteen, and with almost imperceptible speed, his hand reached out and snatched the water away, pulling it to his dry lips and drinking fiercely. He drank so vociferously that several trickles of water spilled from the corner of his mouth, and he found to his surprise that the water was sweet and cool, so unlike the usual, somewhat gritty water found in most wells. The man chuckled as he watched Vash chug the water, a slight, compassionate sound, and put a hand on the outlaw's back.

                "Thank you," Vash breathed as he finished, and went to hand the canteen back to the man, somewhat breathless. 

                "Not at all," the man said kindly as he took the canteen and went to help the gunslinger up. "Come on…let's get to my place, and we have talk more comfortably there. I imagine you're hungry as well, but I can take care of that too." And with that, the cloaked stranger started off slowly to the North, where a small little structure was now visible just ahead. Vash frowned as he stepped unsteadily after the stranger; he must have missed seeing the little place during the sandstorm…that seemed to have dissipated by now…Goodness, how long had he been out? It was a wonder he was still alive! 

                Which brought another question to Vash's mind. Why was that stranger out in the middle of the desert? No one could live so far out here; they'd die without water or power from one of the plants near the cities…and yet…

                "Um, excuse me," Vash asked as he caught up to the man, questions in his eyes.

                "Yes, Vash?"

                "Well, I was wondering…" Vash stopped and frowned for a moment. "Hey…how did you know my name? I haven't even given it," he pointed out, looking a bit suspicious. People on this planet were supposed to think he was dead!

                "Ah…I know everything there is to know about you, Vash the Stampede," the man remarked with a tone that suggested that he was smirking. "From your sixty-billion-double-dollar reward to that custom-made Colt revolver left in Dhimitri long ago to Rem Saverem…"

                Vash stared at him, his green eyes wide. How…but…how…No one left alive knew about Dhimitri or…Rem…So how could he…possibly know…

                "…Who are you? How can you know all that…" he asked quietly as they came upon the door that led into the small hovel. He couldn't help but be a little creeped out by the almost omniscient manner of this stranger…

                The stranger paused at the door, as though in thought.

                "…My name isn't important…I am merely a shepherd. You'll understand soon, Vash. You have to be a bit patient…"

                Vash lingered in the doorway, a bit wary as he watched the shepherd step into his little house. He wasn't too sure about this one…but his instincts told him that he could trust him, even though he knew entirely too much about him. 

                "Well, come on in. It's not like I'm going to attack you the moment the door's closed. If I were after your skin, I would have attacked you while you were out of it," the shepherd remarked wryly as he retrieved some food for Vash to eat. The outlaw noticed as he walked in that the strange man didn't seem to have removed his cloak upon entering the house, which perplexed him further. As he sat down, he noticed that the little hovel was neatly furnished with humble items; a small bed, a little table and two chairs, and a bureau, but what was odd about them was that they were made of wood; a precious commodity on this barren planet. Letting his eyes linger on the furniture for a moment, he found his eyes drawn back to the shepherd, who was handing him his food and sitting down across the table from him.

                "Oh…thank you…" Vash said as he opened the little box, and found a simple sandwich and, to his surprise, a glazed donut nestled within. Deciding that it would be better not to ask as to how this man knew of his fondness for donuts, he quietly began to eat, though he had several burning questions.

                "So, what are you doing out in the middle of the blazing desert without any food or water, dressed like that?" the man asked, a bit curious. Vash paused in his eating to look down at himself at this, looking a bit curious, and was about to answer when the shepherd inquired further. "Did you get lost while trying to get to your destination? Where were you headed?"

                Vash sighed as he sat down the sandwich for a moment, looking quietly down at the grain of the table as he thought about his answer. 

                "I…I don't have a destination. I've been lost for a long time…I have nothing here," he remarked quietly, his voice suddenly a bit brooding.

                "No destination…" the man said thoughtfully, and finally nodded. "Well…perhaps you'll find something in Eden…"

                "Eden?" Vash asked, looking into the shadows of the cloak curiously. That was odd; Eden was a little spot in the road in between May and Inepriel so small that if you so much as blinked, you'd literally miss it. "But…what on Earth am I supposed to be able to find in Eden besides cheap liquor?" he asked, a bit incredulous.

                The shepherd laughed warmly at this and shook his head. "No, Vash…not the same Eden. But don't worry about it. You'll see when we get there, don't worry."

                "Um…okay…" Vash said, looking increasingly perplexed. He wanted to ask "why me?", but decided that it would be rude to express such things as he was a guest. So, he settled for yet another question that he'd been meaning to ask.

                "Why are you still wearing that cloak? I mean, we're indoors…it seems a bit much for the inside," he remarked as he continued to eat. 

                The shepherd sighed lightly and shook his head, his true meaning unable to distinguish due to the dark cloak hiding his face.

                "So was my part of the bargain…"

                "Bargain?"

                "Yeah. I agreed that I could not remove the cloak from my head until I arrived in Eden…Don't worry. You'll understand soon, Vash," he remarked, and gestured to his food. "Now go on, eat. I know you're starving, as you've not eaten since you left New Oregon," he asserted, and stood slowly, his chair scraping against the stone floor as he did so. As he passed, he patted Vash warmly on the shoulder, and stepped across the little room to where the bed was, turning it down and making sure it was nice and neat. "You can rest here; I won't need too much sleep," he remarked, gesturing to the bed vaguely. "Now, I've got to go do something, so just take your time and help yourself," he remarked, and stepped out the door with the faint swish of his cloak. 

                Vash sat there at the table for a long moment, holding his half-eaten sandwich in his hand as his brow creased in thought. Nothing was adding up…Even in the sandstorm, he should have been able to see this little place; it was too close for him to have missed it, even in the whirling sand…And how did this guy that he'd never met before in his life know so much about him…No one left alive knew of those intimate details of his life…besides the bounty, no one knew about Rem…or that his revolver had been created specifically for him…and he had to wonder…just what else did this strange shepherd know? The only person who might know of such things…was Knives…

                Vash looked up and towards the door as this thought occurred to him, his green eyes piqued with inquisitive curiosity and hope. Was this stranger his brother whom he'd not seen in so many years helping him? But if so, why would he not show himself…And the shepherd…his mannerisms didn't seem like those that he remembered Knives having…There was more of an easy-going humor about him that didn't seem to be reminiscent of his brother…

                Standing, no longer feeling very hungry for the confusion that wracked his mind, the outlaw turned and stepped over to where the bed had been laid out. Outside over the desert, the two suns had begun to sink down over the horizon, casting an eerie pink and purple light over the rocky sand. He watched the sunset, eyes filled with unease, but as he stood there, he noticed that there were no footsteps in the sand where the shepherd had left. It was as though he'd never even left the building. Even stranger still, the outlaw noticed that neither he nor the shepherd had left any footsteps when walking to the little hovel either. Straightening his shoulders as bit as his eyes frowned warily; he took a step back from the window and turned back to face the rest of the rather Spartan house. 

                Just where had that enigmatic stranger gone…what secrets did he hide under that enveloping cloak of his?

~*~

Author's Notes:

And the plot thickens…Just who is that strange shepherd? And what of this Eden he speaks of? What does he know that Vash doesn't?

All will be revealed in the final installment, coming soon!


	3. The Way To Eden

**~*Part Three – The Way To Eden*~**

****

                _I was once told I was to shepherd the devil…A man so horrible that not even Hell would keep him…_

_I wish I could tell him…I want to tell him everything about what's happened…how I know so much about him…I want nothing more than for that pained confusion to be erased from that beautiful face of his, because I understand now…I understand what it was that was in his eyes long ago, mingled with his pain and frustration. He's known too much grief for this to continue, and yet, because of this damned bargain I made, I have to watch him flounder in a sea of confusion, endlessly lost within himself…I hate hiding behind this cloak as though I have something to fear…I suppose I'm the one who has to be patient…_

_I never shepherded the devil…Imagine my surprise when I realized too late that I'd been shepherding an angel that entire time…_

~*~         

Vash awoke late that morning; the sun was shining in through the open window directly onto his face, and with a mumbled groan, he threw an arm over his face and rolled over, his brow furrowed. He'd dreamed of Wolfwood again. The priest haunted his dreams like a relentless specter, standing just over the last rise, and Vash would walk through the desert towards him, but as always, he'd remain just out of reach…But he'd seemed closer tonight…Vash was almost certain that his fingertips had graced the front of the man's black jacket before the sun had interrupted his slumber, and awoken him. Trembling slightly, he laid there, staring at the sandstone wall for a moment as he heard the footfalls of a man who was undoubtedly the shepherd behind him, gathering things about with a faint rustling noise. 

With a sigh, the outlaw succumbed to the inevitable and rolled over onto his back and turned his head towards the other side of the little hovel, where the cloaked man was preparing what looked like the rations for the day's travels. A warm breeze breathed in through the open door, casting a few grains of sand along the stoop, but a flicker of crimson upon the wall caught his eye, and he sat up sharply, eyes widening as he took in the sight before him.

Hanging upon a simple hook in the wall was a rather familiar red duster, waving slightly in the light breeze as though it'd been hanging there for a long time. Everything was identical…right down to the very last button…The same crimson coat he'd worn those many years ago as a symbol of his determination and memory of Rem. Resting on the chair right beside it was the sturdy black body suit that went beneath the coat, complete with the tall boots and black gloves. Vash exhaled slowly, looking numbly at what had obviously been laid out for him.

"Ah…I thought you might have an affinity for the color red," the shepherd's voice came, and Vash tore his eyes away to look up at the man, who had spoken without turning towards the outlaw. "It's a bit better for wear when traipsing across the desert, and I didn't want to have to drag you to Eden because you passed out again from dehydration and heatstroke," he commented wryly, and finally turned, holding two canteens and a pair of apples. "Not that it's terribly far to Eden from here, but we can't be too careful…I've had my fair share of being stuck out in the desert without water before…not pleasant," he remarked with a chuckle as he sat down and watched Vash's shocked expression in faint amusement.

"I…" Vash began to say, but found that he could find no words to express the jumble of emotions that he was feeling at the moment. The shepherd chuckled faintly and waved a hand at him gently, reclining in his chair a bit.

"Go on and get dressed…we've got a long walk ahead of us and it'd be nice to get started before the sun gets too hot overhead," he remarked, crossing his arms loosely. Vash watched him quietly for a moment, too stunned to do much else, before he finally crawled out of bed and stood, looking at the coat that had long been his trademark with stunned, glistening eyes. He reached out with trembling fingers to touch the heavy red canvas coat and the shining buttons that lined the front, and closed his eyes, remembering the meaning behind the coat and the woman he'd worn it in remembrance of.

                Several minutes later, Vash found himself standing before the shepherd dressed in clothing he never thought he'd see, much less wear, again, surrounded by the painful memories that the red coat brought…and the wonderful memories as well. He was wringing his hands slightly as the man arose and strode over to him, but paused as he was offered a bright red apple for his breakfast.

                "Here…you're probably hungry…and you won't need to worry about lunch," the man remarked, and after Vash had taken the fruit, he held up one of the canteens, and leaned forward, bringing the strap up and over Vash's shoulder. "And this is so you won't pass out on the way there," he remarked, clearly grinning lightly, though it could only be inferred. But as the shepherd leaned forward to grant him the container, a bit of sunlight shone in from the window and illuminated part of the face beneath the hood. Though it was brief, Vash caught a glimpse of a strong chin graced with travel-worn stubble, as though the man had no access to a razor out here in the middle of the desert. The glance was short-lived, because as soon as the shepherd realized his error, he drew back quickly and pulled the cloak closer about his head.

                "Thank you," Vash said softly, averting his eyes in apology as he watched his host turn away and sling his own canteen carelessly over his own shoulder.

                "Of course," came the slightly gruff reply, and after a moment, the shepherd stepped towards the door and beckoned for Vash to follow. "Come on…before the suns get too high overhead," he said, and stepped out into the desert. Vash couldn't help but notice that the man still did not leave any footprints, and was still a bit alarmed by the fact that he wasn't leaving any either. But follow the stranger he did, and soon, the small hovel had vanished from the horizon, and they were surrounded by nothing but flat, bleak sand as far as the eye could see. 

                "How do you know the way to Eden without a compass or map?"

                "The way to Eden is well-traveled. You just have to know it's there to find it…"

                Vash frowned slightly at this, wishing that this stranger would quit speaking so cryptically. He'd asked many questions, and even though the shepherd answered him, he had a way about him where he talked a lot but said very little.

                Silence reigned between them for a long while as they trekked across the desert, and though Vash couldn't tell whether the shepherd meant to be silent or if he was waiting for him to strike up a conversation, he couldn't help but wonder…

                "…I know you're not my brother, Shepherd," he finally said as they stepped over a small dune. "But…you know so much about me. Things that only my brother knows…things that only people who have long been dead could know…I wonder…" Vash paused for a moment, turning his head slightly to regard the shepherd's cloaked profile with inquisitive viridian eyes. "Do you know my brother? Are you connected to him in some way that lets you know all this?"

                The shepherd suddenly seemed to hesitate at the question, his stride pausing slightly before he recovered and continued on. He was silent for a moment, as though in thought, and finally sighed, as though the memory of something pained him greatly.

                "I was…once," he remarked quietly, and said nothing more. Vash knew well not to press the matter, but it seemed to sate his curiosity. It certainly explained a bit of why the man knew so much.

                "You dreamed about him again, didn't you?" 

                "What?" Vash asked, startled by the sudden intrusion of the shepherd's slightly gruff, warm voice.

                "You dreamed of the priest again…Nicholas D. Wolfwood…didn't you?"

                Vash looked at the shepherd quietly for a moment, once again rendered silent by the man's intuition. Was this guy some sort of mind reader? 

                The shepherd chuckled faintly at Vash's dumbfounded expression, shaking his head faintly. 

                "You talk in your sleep, Vash," he explained simply, turning his shrouded head slightly to glance over at the outlaw. Vash looked slowly down at his boots, looking a bit forlorn. 

                "I've missed him…it's been…a long time since I've seen him, and even longer until I see him again." Vash paused. "If I ever do see him again."

                "He loved you, you know." Vash inhaled slightly as the shepherd spoke of the long dead priest, turning to face the man sharply as he heard those impossibly true words. "He was never very good at speaking about the softer emotions, especially when it came to you. He always came off as rough and somewhat callous, but that's because he didn't know how to approach the subject…and then he ran out of time…" The shepherd's voice had grown a bit quiet now, and Vash was staring at him in numb disbelief. He couldn't comprehend the fact that Wolfwood, who, right up until the moment he died was ever an enigma, had borne feelings for him as well. It was too cruel a thought…too wrenching a pain…

                "So much that he left unsaid," the shepherd said softly. "Be assured that he regrets it now, Vash."

                Vash closed his eyes as the old pain long buried began to resurface along his scarred heart. He'd tried to forget that he'd ever had any feelings for the renegade priest; he'd almost been able to convince himself of it…but sometimes, in the dark, lonely nights, he'd think back on the ways things had been before, when he'd still been a broken man, but had still been somewhat whole…He was shattered now, and there was no one left to help him pick up his pieces…

                "What…is this Eden like?" Vash finally said, his voice slightly broken and forlorn. If this place was as wonderful as this shepherd was making it out to be…perhaps he would finally find solace here…

                The shepherd took a breath, as though he too, was a bit melancholy after their recent conversation, and sighed. 

                "It's a huge city...more people dwell there than you can possibly imagine. All very good people. The streets are not so dusty, and golden...and you'll see people there you never imagined you'd find anywhere else..." he paused, and cast a shrouded look over at Vash for a moment. "Surely a utopia for your peaceful soul…"

                Vash was silent as he considered the man's cryptic words, and turned his eyes back to the horizon, looking solemn and silent.

                Suddenly, after several hours of hiking, a small black rise appeared on the horizon, wavering slightly from the heat that rose up from the ground. Vash sighed as he lowered his half-empty canteen from his lips, closing his eyes thankfully.

                "Oh thank God…I thought we'd never get here…"

                "That's exactly what the Israelites thought when they finally arrived on the borders of Jordan after 40 years of being lost in the desert," the shepherd said wisely as he raised a hand and put it warmly on Vash's shoulder. "You aren't unlike those Israelites. Lost in the desert of your own being for 100 years...it must have been very lonely without anyone else...Maybe you'll find yourself here…"

                Vash nodded vaguely and closed his eyes for a moment as they walked on, but as he did so, a soft, strangely cool breeze kissed his face, and caused him to raise his head sharply in surprise. It was gentle and sweet smelling, far removed from the gritty, coarse winds that usually blew on this planet, and confusion flickered through the outlaw's eyes before it was slowly replaced with stunned awe. Surely…what he was seeing before him…It couldn't be real. There was no way that it could possibly exist out here.

                The sweet scent of flowers hung in the fresh breeze as it beckoned he and the shepherd into a garden the likes of which Vash had never seen…Even the most skilled hologram on the SEEDS ship as a child paled in comparison to such beauty…The trees stood tall as they came closer, and the desert was swiftly vanishing under their feet as the grass sprang up before them in a veritable carpet of plush green. Already, the gunslinger could see such flora that he'd never imagined, climbing along the trunks of trees upon vines and hanging in bushes, as though this ground had been touched by the fingers of God himself. And beyond this gorgeous garden lay the edge of a vast white city, its spires and pillars reaching towards the heavens.

                "I don't believe it…" he said softly as he turned his head to gaze at the shepherd, who had paused to gaze upon this place they had come upon. He seemed somewhat reverent in his posture, and somehow relieved, but as he heard Vash's breathy words, he turned and beckoned him to step before him.

                "Neither did I…when I first arrived here…" he said quietly, and nodded his head. "Go…there is someone who wishes to see you…"

                Vash was shaking all over as he followed the shepherd's orders and stepped into the garden. The perfume of flowers and trees enveloped him as he stepped under the filtered shade of these beautiful trees, and he noticed as he tried to look out over the horizon that the entire desert had vanished, as though it had never been there. As he walked through the shade, the sunlight passing along his handsome face, he put a hand against the bark of one of the great trees and looked up through to the canopy, closing his eyes in rapture. He couldn't believe it…was this…this place of such heavenly perfection; of such utopian beauty; was this-

                "Welcome to Eden, Vash," sounded a soft, sweet voice to his right, and Vash froze quickly as her words caressed his weary soul like the breeze that had kissed his face only moments before. That voice…that gentle, lovely voice…He could remember the last time he'd heard her voice…and he'd wept for her…oh, how he'd wept…

                "We've been waiting for you."

                Slowly, Vash screwed up his courage, hoping that this was not another of his dreams…or an elaborate hallucination created by his weary mind, and turned towards the voice, his breathing hitching slightly as emotion threatened to overwhelm him. 

                Warm russet eyes gazed at him, framed against delicately moving ebony hair. She was smiling warmly at him, her entire face alight with kind, elegant happiness, and perched gracefully in her long hair was a single red geranium, its blood red petals matching his crimson coat perfectly. She stood beneath a tall willow tree, the long, wispy branches waving lightly against her, her head leaning lightly against the bark.

                Vash's breath caught in his throat, and he could only stand there and gape at her, tears running along the edge of his expressive eyes as he took in her beauty. Her eyes were eyes he'd never thought to meet again…

                "…Rem…" he choked finally, his voice hoarse and thick with disbelief and joy, and she smiled fondly at him as she watched him slowly dissolve into silent tears. Gently, she stepped away from the tree and up to him, looking up into his handsome face, and shook her head lightly as she reached up and wiped his tears away, just as she had done so many years ago.

                "You've grown up so much, Vash…and yet you've remained so much the same…" Rem said kindly, fondly, and softly embraced him. "I'm so proud of you…"

                Vash closed his eyes as he felt her gentle fingers brush away a few tears, but her touch only caused more to flow freely down his face, and he reached up with a gloved hand swiftly, taking her hand into his and leaning against it. As she embraced him, he threw his arms about her, his knees trembling as he once again felt her kind touch and heard her comforting voice…

                "Typical," came another female voice, which brought Vash a bit out of his stupor. Frowning, he looked at Rem, who was smiling at someone behind him, and went to turn. 

                "We make that bargain and finally track him down and get him here safe and sound, and he stands there blubbering like a big blond baby without so much as a hello. Nice to see you too, Vash! You've only kept us waiting for a good seventy five years!"

                "Oh, Senpai, it wasn't that long of a wait! You're making molehills out of mountains!"

                "Um…I think you mean 'mountains out of molehills', Millie…"

                Vash was about to look affronted, but failed miserably as he turned and saw two more familiar faces standing there. Meryl Stryfe was watching him from a few feet away, her arms crossed and her dark eyes piercing, and although she appeared to be annoyed, it was evident by the warm smile playing on her face that she was far from so. Behind her, waving happily at him, stood Millie Thompson, her long brown hair waving behind her in the wind. 

                "Millie…Meryl…" he said faintly, but it appeared that while Meryl only shook her head and began to step forward, Millie could no longer hold in her enthusiasm and ran forward, throwing her arms around the outlaw and taking him in a big bear hug. Vash's eyes widened and he choked as she squeezed, but Meryl and Rem were thankfully the voice of reason, as they managed to persuade Millie to let him go, as there was plenty of Vash to go around.

                "You've left us all hanging for quite some time, you know," came the shepherd's voice from behind him, but there was something new about his voice right now…something familiar that he couldn't quite place. Both Millie and Meryl stepped away, and Millie began to giggle a bit, though she quieted down as Meryl gave her a careful look. Rem looked over at the cloaked man with a faint smile and gently stepped away, an understanding look on her fair face, and Vash looked at her in confusion for a moment before he turned to see what the man who had brought him here had meant. There was a faint rustling of cloth as the outlaw set his green eyes on the shepherd, and his damp eyes widened slightly as he finally met the shepherd's eyes. 

                He grinned a bit at Vash's numb shock, his eyes twinkling faintly as he saw so many things rush through the gunslinger's expressive eyes, and sighed, his grin falling into a fond smile.

                "Been a while…eh, Tongari?"

                A soft whimper fell from Vash's lips as Nicholas D. Wolfwood's cobalt eyes smiled at him from behind a faint shroud of mussed raven hair. He watched as those strong hands finished lowering the cloak from about his head and took in the casual posture, the rakish grin that seemed to show much more than just happiness, and those dark, brooding eyes that had watched him from behind the guise of the shepherd…those lips that had confessed the love he'd long considered dead…

                "Wolfwood…" Vash said softly, hands trembling. He stepped forward as he felt Rem's small hands gently push him towards the priest, moving rigidly as though he were on automatic pilot. 

                "The one and only," the priest remarked with a wry grin as he gazed into Vash's eyes, though his wry grin was tempered slightly by a softer glint in his dark eyes. Vash opened his mouth slightly to speak, but found his voice mute. Hesitantly, he reached out with a few trembling fingers to touch Wolfwood's face, and traced over that tanned visage, as though trying to reaffirm the fact that he was real and not another phantom as in his dreams. 

                "…Why didn't you tell me…before…" Vash finally asked, his voice almost inaudible. 

                "Would you have believed me if I had?" 

                "…No…"

                Wolfwood sighed at this, and closed his eyes, reaching up with his own hand to cover Vash's gently. 

                "Which is why we made this bargain…we knew that you'd think I was a mirage or something if I told you…so I had to keep my façade up…" A soft chuckle escaped his lips. "Not that it was easy trying to hide myself from you…"

                Vash closed his eyes as he listened to that voice fill his ears, and felt that hand against his, and finally realized the truth of this Eden…this paradise…This was no mirage, this was not a phantom or a hallucination. This was real…so truly, painfully, and undeniably real…

                With a breath of confirmation, Vash reached out and pulled Wolfwood into his arms, gripping the cloak in his gloved fingers as though they were a lifeline, and rested his head against the priest's shoulders, closing his eyes tightly as tears of joy seeped from his eyes. He felt Nicholas' arms wrap about him comfortingly, and sighed shudderingly as he felt him nuzzle him gently, his breath warm against his skin.

                "I love you, Vash. I'm…I'm sorry I never got around to telling you before…when it counted."

                Vash closed his eyes as he heard Nicholas' voice in his ear, shaking as silent sobs of happiness overwhelmed him. His fingers tightened about the cloak, and he nodded faintly.

                "I know…"

                There was a pause as both men stood there, content in each other's arms, until finally, Wolfwood leaned his head back and gently brought Vash's eyes up to meet his. He smiled faintly and let his hand run along the side of his face, brushing aside flaxen strands from those tearful green eyes, and sighed. 

                "I'm going to kiss you now, Tongari…" he murmured faintly, and leaned his head to the side slightly as he moved forward, almost hesitantly for the kiss that had long been denied both of them. 

                "You know I hate it when you call me that," Vash murmured lowly as their noses brushed lightly against one another, his green eyes meeting that intense blue gaze. There was slight mirth in his tone, and his lips were quirked faintly in a smile.

                "Oh…shut up and deal with it," came the faint, slightly sardonic reply, and Vash chuckled a bit as he felt Wolfwood's lips brush against his. There was a slight taste of tobacco and some sort of liquor that was quintessentially Nicholas D. Wolfwood, and had never seemed to have faded, but Vash was surprised to find that these lips were soft…and he couldn't help but note the loneliness…the lingering longing in those lips…and he knew that Wolfwood could feel it in his kiss as well. A few tears slipped down his cheek as he ran a hand along the side of Nicholas' face and through his mussed raven hair, caressing the ebony strands with such care and love, and he tasted salt on his lips from his own weeping. 

                He'd gone searching for himself in the desert…trying to find his way. And this enigma of a man…Nicholas D. Wolfwood, a shepherd of men…had found his bruised and broken soul..and brought him home…

                He'd found his way to Eden.

~*Owari*~


End file.
